miniature adult
by cyanoscarlet
Summary: Whoever thought that turning this year's GPF banquet into a children's party was a good idea needs to be sacked instantly or shipped to some Polynesian island with lots of jungle kids. Both sound nice, actually. (In which Yuri knows listening to his guardian angel's voice is always a good idea, but he didn't.)


"Is this your first time seeing so many children in one place, Yuri?"

 _No_ , he is tempted to say as he remembers supervising a group of novice skaters through some core maneuvers back in his junior days. He and they were only roughly two years apart in age, but they might as well have been five-year-old brats for all he cared. Not that Yakov wouldn't eventually set them straight somehow, but doing Viktor's training regimen would definitely have been a piece of cake compared to that ordeal. (Yuri would later eat his words a few months into his senior debut while doing basic pliés instead of practicing his quads, with Lilia failing him mercilessly for the tenth day in a row. Katsudon had better appreciate Viktor's coaching while it lasted.)

Otabek puts a hand on Yuri's shoulder, causing him to jerk at the sudden contact. Still, he is unable to take his eyes off the gaggle of miniature adults laughing and shrieking as they raced each other around the ballroom. As if the raucous wildness that was the Sochi Dance Party and the utter debauchery that was the Barcelona Stag Night weren't already enough, whoever thought that turning this year's GPF banquet into a children's party was a good idea needs to be sacked instantly or shipped to some Polynesian island with lots of jungle kids. Both sound nice, actually.

As this year's Men's Singles Gold Medalist, Yuri deserves to make some of the rules here, the first of which would be, "No children."

"Wow, Yura, I'm surprised you would actually go that far," and suddenly Viktor is in his face, with his eyes twinkling brighter than ever and his forehead taking up all of his field of vision. A stomp on his foot causes Yuri to double over in pain, and he comes face to face with a not-really miniature Katsudon wearing a scowl better than he could when he was her age. He knows better than to retaliate, however, and instead tries to find the correct words to explain himself.

"Did I say that out loud?" are what come out of his mouth instead, and the kid's scowl only grows deeper. ( _No_ , Otabek, don't sigh like that, _dammit!_ )

" _Yes_ ," she says flatly, effectively erasing his chances of redeeming himself to zero, and because Yuri was in her exact same position ten years ago, he knows exactly what she'd say next: "I hate you, Uncle Yurio."

The girl then stomps off in a flurry, probably to look for Katsudon or something. Viktor regards him with a look that's half withering and half sympathetic before going after his daughter like nothing has happened. If anything, holding grudges is a collective F-minus weakness of the Nikiforov-Katsuki household, so Yuri probably wouldn't have to worry about anything on that front. (Listening to his guardian angel's voice is always a good idea. It helps, too, that it sounds a lot like Otabek's manly baritone - so clear, so fine, so close to him.)

"Yuri."

(And so persistent, apparently.)

" _Yuri._ "

And he is more than ready to go to war with his guardian angel right this instant, except it's Otabek standing to his right instead of some gaudily-robed seraphim with curly blond hair, speaking in the same rich baritone as his guardian angel's. Shrugging, Yuri changes his mind and replaces his guardian angel with Otabek, heavenly orders be damned. And damn, is it just him, or is the room getting hotter by the second?

Yuri buckles under the sweltering heat, and Otabek immediately catches him. He feels as if the room is spinning, and is _this_ close to throwing up his dinner. He can hear himself saying something indistinct, and the next thing he knows, Otabek is matching his shuffling footsteps as they make their way to the open balcony. The night air has never felt this refreshing, the stars have never been this bright, and everything felt so good, so _right_.

But just as he is about to proclaim something grand to Otabek (his _fine_ guardian angel, _yes_ ), Katsudon comes into view this time, a glass of water in his hand. ( _Damn it._ ) The momentum gone, Yuri grudgingly takes slow sips of the cool liquid, trying to make sense of the other men's conversation - something about the bar running out of drinks this early in the evening, and how it is actually a good thing, with all the children everyone and their partners have brought with them that evening.

Yuri vaguely recalls going on about some lofty crusade to make sure Katsudon and Viktor don't get even a sip of alcohol during the banquet so they don't make fools of themselves in front of their daughter, because "we don't need a repeat of what happened in Barcelona, you dumbasses." He also remembers someone - his guardian angel, that _traitor_ \- trying to talk him out of it, but he didn't listen.

Oh.

 _Oh._

That certainly explains several things - not that he understood them at the moment.

"Yurio," Katsudon crouches down before him, "I'll be going back inside now. Take your time to feel better, okay?" Yuri nods listlessly, and they are left alone again. At least he knows how well he can hold his liquor now, he muses. Better now than never.

Beside him, Otabek sits cross-legged, watching the party go in full swing. Chulanont is now leading the children in a game of musical chairs, and even the adults are laughing in delight as their kids fight over adult-sized stools in their dapper suits and frilly dresses and shiny shoes. Yuri finds himself chuckling, too, as JJ's son voluntarily offers his seat to Katsudon and Viktor's daughter. JJ's proud dad-applauding is cut short, however, as she curtly refuses the spot and gracefully bows out, curtsy and all. Viktor, meanwhile, is off on the side, his eyes brimming with tears as he records the game on his phone.

"She's coming this way," Otabek observes, and by the time Yuri is able to fully process what he'd just said, the little princess herself is standing before them, a pink kiddie tumbler in her hands. She solemnly takes his hand and encloses it around the proffered container, then looks at him expectantly. He returns it with a blank stare, and she folds her arms, eyeing the empty glass on the floor between him and Otabek before glaring back. "Drink it, Uncle Yurio."

Yuri still feels queasy even after drinking the water Katsudon had given him, so he fumbles as he tries to unscrew the top of the tumbler open. At once, Otabek reaches out and assists him, guiding his hands to grip the cover tightly, then twisting it open. Yuri gratefully takes a few sips before leaning back on the pillar. The girl is now smiling at him, proud and satisfied.

"Papa says you drank a lot of wine today, so you're not feeling well," she explains slowly in English. That clearly is the best way of putting it, Yuri thinks wryly. For all he knows, this probably isn't the first time he's been lectured by a kid, either - not that he's sober enough to remember anything dated further than the last few hours, anyway.

"I don't hate you, Uncle Yurio," she continues, and Yuri doesn't know whether to laugh or to cry, "but please drink the water, okay? And please listen to Uncle Otabek. Papa says he's your angel, and you should always listen to your angel before you sleep at night."

The girl is now huffing after the long delivery in a foreign tongue. Kid's good, actually, Yuri wants to compliment her, but his mouth is still too dry to speak. He looks her in the eye warmly in response. " _Spasibo._ " She grins happily in response and makes her way back inside just as quickly as she came out. Yuri curiously regards the tumbler in his hand, the growing silence deafening against the boisterous laughter inside.

"Otabek." Yuri doesn't even look at him; he just _knows_ that faint smirk that must be on the other's face now. "You did _not_ hear that, you hear me?"

"About what, Yuri?"

"About you being my guardian angel."

Otabek's jaw goes slack, and Yuri immediately blanches.

 _Damn it._


End file.
